


Tougher

by Onki



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Mortality, Older Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-05-17 01:21:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14822534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onki/pseuds/Onki
Summary: how ya'll feelingEdit: y'all comments are pure gold lmfaoo





	Tougher

Hank wasn’t getting any younger. At the back of his mind, Connor always knew that. But, it didn’t make the reality any easier.

“Look at yourself, just like the first day I met you,” Hank coughed, clenching the blanket in his hands.

“Is that envy I hear, lieutenant?” Connor pulled the hypospray, checking the dosage. Years of drinking and reckless living showed already.

“You know it,” the frail arm he stretched out for another of his scheduled shots was covered with liver spots, slightly shaking from the exertion of simply being raised for a short amount of time.

“I read in an article about a new model of prosthetic legs is being developed. Perhaps we could go jogging in a little while,” Connor scanned the arm for an available vein.

“Now you’re just being an asshole. We both know you’re gonna win and be a smug little shit about it for the rest of the week,” Hank managed a smile. He absentmindedly patted the spot beside him – a habit he never dropped after Sumo. The dog would lie down wherever he patted usually, slumping down its massive body. Connor missed him.

“Always wondered why you kept that indicator,” Hank pointed his finger towards the forehead. “Ah, see, I can see you thinking about it. It kinda starts rotating, y’know? It’s a dead giveaway during investigations.”

“I don’t really know,” Connor replied. Ever since he started working with Hank in the earlier days, all his absolutes were slowly switched to ‘maybe’s, ‘don’t know’s. The change was so subtle, yet powerful, Connor always relished whenever he could doubt himself.

“I don’t know,” he repeated, “It gives me a comfort, I suppose. Like a reality check?”

Hank looked at him with understanding eyes, “Alright, enough of this sentimental bull, get my ass on that wheelchair and let’s roll outside.”

All the trees were covered with new leaves, rare sunlight coming through them. Ever since android production came to the hands of the androids themselves, the numbers didn’t rise much. Most only requested at the office in a form of a child. It was weird and new for everyone at the beginning, and now, it seemed to becoming a part of an everyday life.

“Ah, Detroit. Still as shitty. Guess less angry fucks about androids stealing their jobs now – less noise, y’know?” Hank grumbled, looking around the park. “Still, kinda unfair at the job market, though. I mean, look at the androids: perfect and never faulty.”

“Not true at all, according to statistics, androids were just as likely to make a mistake, only slightly out-performing humans in physical activities. Ever since the free thinking pact, we are just as driven by our emotions as you are, Hank.”

“Bah, statistics. You think some people care?”

They stopped by the lake. The sun was still in its zenith, occasional laughter of children and barks of dogs, thwarting the silence around them.

“Are you afraid to die?” Hank suddenly asked, voice somber.

“Yes, Hank,” Connor answered. He looked over the water, a feeling of a lump in his throat strong and ever-present.

“You were such an idiot back then. Running into action without even asking me, what were you even thinking? You almost gave me a heart attack! And I wouldn’t even say I was in my prime when we first worked as well!”

“I knew you cared, Hank,” Connor smiled, making the older man groan.

“Aren’t you gonna have little Connors running around some day?”

“You know I cannot father children, Hank.”

“I know, I know. I meant the thing androids doing now. Requesting a baby at the office?”

“Oh,” there was yet another pact on android’s ‘reproduction’ predicament. For the stability of the world overall, it was decided Androids could ‘get’ a baby at the office. Which was weird for humans, but it suited just fine for Androids.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” it was a lie. Of course he thought about it. He just never wanted it.

“Ah, you’re lying.” When Connor looked at Hank with a surprise written on his face, the older man involuntarily let out a huff of laughter, “Your indicator, you genius. Such a dead giveaway.”

Connor put his finger over it, picking at it. Perhaps he should really get rid of it.

“Okay, I thought about it. I just don’t want to. I _am_ the most advanced model CyberLife has ever created. I remember how I was at the beginning, seeing the world in black and white, solely focused on my mission, if my predecessors will be anything like me, they’d need a guidance. But, I am still working at the DCPD, I simply don’t have time for it,” Connor finished, putting his hands behind his back.

“Well, don’t you have any pretty androids you courting?” Hank was shaking from laughter.

“I never had,” Connor honestly told him.

“With a face like yours you’ll find one in no time,” Hank reassured, patting him lightly. “Although you’ve gotten better over the time, your personality is still worse than a can of garbage, though.”

The sun was setting over the horizon, throwing its last rays of light around, painting the sky in pink and orange.

“Well, I guess it’s our cue to head back,” Hank breathed out. He looked at peace.

Once at the house, Connor helped him back into the bed, changing the IV bag for a new one.

“You know, Connor, you’re a good friend.”

“You are as well, Hank.”

“You know what’s the most shittiest thing?”

“What is it, Hank?”

“Despite the humanity’s creation of ideal new species, we still hadn’t learned to cure a fucking cancer.”

Connor looked down, the feeling of a lump in his throat returning.

“And I know you’ve stopped replacing your old biocomponents, Connor.”

“But, Hank-”

“No buts. You should live longer. You really were like a child when we first met. Now look at you: I see a grown man. People die, Connor. You can’t change that. But that doesn’t mean you have to stop living as well,” Hank put his hand on top of Connor’s.

Connor didn’t even notice his tears, until fat droplet landed on their connected hands.

“But I don’t want to live forever, Hank. I’m not aging, while you’re here… you’re-,” Connor broke down, kneeling in front of the bed. “In a month, you-”

“But I’m still here, Connor. And I’m telling you, there’s more to life than just this old bag of bones here,” Hank gave a halfhearted laughter, voice wavering. “Be tougher than me.”

_Be tougher than me._

**Author's Note:**

> how ya'll feeling  
> Edit: y'all comments are pure gold lmfaoo


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